Q is married to Mr Perfect and is busy raising their four children. She’s continually reforming in her faith, is a hard core home educator,
and loves the smell of napalm in the morning.

Sunday, May 10, 2009

May 10th ~ A Little Insight

May 10th ~ Prologue

You were a bunch of business from the day you were born, September 14 many years ago now. The perfect baby, whose only vice was the sprinkling of the living room carpet with whatever was in your sippy cup. You loved going places in the car, reading books and discovering new things. Your vocabulary was impressive for someone not even 20 months old. You knew when we were driving down the same street where the ice cream store was. “Cream?” you’d say. “Not today – we’re going to visit Nana and Tata.” “Oh, Tata – corn!” “Yes honey, I bet Tata will have pop corn for you.” You loved coloring and painting. You loved flowers and always had to have just one from where ever you saw them. And water – in any form, any time, any place. You would run into freezing sprinklers out back – fully clothed – in November. If you saw a pool you had to at least take off your sandals and walk on the step. On your last Christmas it was raining here, yet you had to go play in the water. When you were damp and a bit chilled you came back to the door and said, “Warm snugglies, Mommy – favorite?” ( “Let me snuggle in your lap to get warm, snuggling is your favorite!”)

You were very smart – if you weren’t sure about a situation you’d just stand back and watch until you had it figured out. Do you remember the day that Nana brought thumb-print cookies . . . and when you took a bite you dropped some crumbs onto the carpet? She showed you how to step on them with the little toe of your shoe and then twist it to get the crumbs to disappear into the carpet. You weren’t sure at first, but tried it and thought that was a pretty good trick.

At the beginning of May we visited my parent’s for an afternoon of swimming. We were all outside and you were walking around the pool with one of Jack’s African Daisies in your hand. (Surprise.) Jack came out the back door and had a few of those chocolate mini doughnuts in his hand and was popping them into his mouth. You were a bit intimidated by Jack so you charmed him from a distance – just to be safe. But the doughnuts were too tempting, so you cautiously approached where Jack had sat down and watched him eat. Sure enough he handed one to you. Your big brown eyes lit up and you, very happily, ate your doughnut. When you were done you started walking around and looking for something – but I couldn’t figure out what. Then you remembered the flower in your hand. You walked up to Jack and gave him your flower in thanks for the treat. No one told you to say, “Thank you.” or to give him anything. You knew if he gave you something nice, perhaps he’d appreciate something nice in return.

She hath no scorn of common things;And, though she seem of other birth,Round us her heart entwines and clings,And patiently she folds her wingsTo tread the humble paths of earth.

~James Russell Lowell

May 10th ~ Chapter One

If this were your childhood video we were watching, right about now is when the screen would suddenly go to static for a few moments, and then fade to black. We had no idea, as we shot video of you just the day before, what a fitting way it would be to represent our loss of you on May 10, 1995, not 20 months after you were born.

I'm so glad that God made you, Alexandrea, and gave you to me - even if only for a little while.

Close to you'Til the last beatOf my heart.

May 10th ~ Chapter Two

Fast forward to May 10, 2007. Sitting on my couch, visiting with friend, K, who stopped by to break up a difficult day, children playing. Mr. Perfect came home from work early. My dear friend came to just ‘be’, and gave me a fabulous gift of several bolts of fabric to use in my Master Bedroom.

As we visited, the land-line rang. Seeing it read “Private” on the caller id, I ignored it. The machine could manage it. Seconds after Mr. Perfect’s cel phone rang. It was our adoption facilitator, whom I was none-to-pleased with. Thinking it was more jerking around, I returned to the conversation I was enjoying with K while Mr. Perfect headed to the office just behind me to manage our twit of a facilitator. Then I heard his words . . .

“Where are they?”

“How old are they”

I’m not sure my feet hit the floor as I headed to the office and stared at him, wide-eyed.

It was our facilitator, at last calling with a referral. Twin boys, 7 years old, in Wroclaw, Poland.

I went back to my friend and sat on the loveseat and got teary. She didn’t understand, and since on May 10ths I am prone to crying about anything with no warning, I thought I’d better clarify. “We just got a referral . . . ”

Within minutes Mr. Perfect was off the phone and we were printing off copies of the pages of referral information that was emailed to us. Next up was a photo . . .

Now, I know you’re not supposed to make the decision based on how cute the children are. As the photo slowly downloaded from the top, I steeled myself to NOT fall in love with them via the photo.

It didn’t work.

While it would not be legal until many months and thousands of miles later, on May 10, 2007, as this photo loaded, my heart became a mother to these boys. They were mine, no questions asked.

To appoint unto them that mourn in Zion,

to give unto them beauty for ashes,

the oil of joy for mourning,

the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness;

that they might be called trees of righteousness,

the planting of the LORD, that he might be glorified.

~Isaiah 61:3

Epilogue

I’m still a walking time-bomb/lunatic in the first half of May. I still dread May 10th, especially when it falls on Mother’s Day, and for that matter, I still dread Mother’s Day. I may be a mess, barely breathing, pacing, waiting for something else to be ripped away and show me once again how NOT in control I am. On the other hand, I may be just fine. It's like being a terrorist with a split personality.

So, to my dear friends who endure me in May, I thank you. For those of you who pray for me, I thank you in ways that can not be verbalized. You have no idea the depths of hell from which your prayers have plucked me. Thank you for praying me through and helping me be a walking reminder of Isaiah 61:3.